


I better be hallucinating this

by gnarf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Draco Malfoy in Azkaban, Escape, Hallucinations, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry is a Little Shit, Hiding, Humor, M/M, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Out of Character, Prompt Fic, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnarf/pseuds/gnarf
Summary: After the war Draco Malfoy is sentenced to Azkaban for a really long sentence. Apparently aiding in Dumbledore's death overrules any argument Harry could put up for him.After the trial, as the days pass by, Harry is more and more outraged at the sentence.He can't stop obsessing over the fact that Draco Malfoy saved his life and aided him during the war and is very much capable of redemption. Not to mention that Malfoy has always been a delicate git and would never survive Azkaban.After a few weeks obsessing Harry decides that Malfoy indeed can't remain unjustly in Azkaban and starts to plot a way to break him out of jail and hide him in Grimmauld Place.When Hermione finds out she's not amused. Ron is horrified. Draco still thinks he's hallucinating.
Comments: 44
Kudos: 146





	I better be hallucinating this

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fantasizingmyfantasies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasizingmyfantasies/gifts).



> Thank you for your amazing help with the beta, and for finding a title for this Tedah 😍😍😍
> 
> And thank you Mary for leaving this amazing prompt at the Discord prompt channel 😂 it was so much fun to write! I used your prompt as Summary!

Harry saw the headlines before taking the first sip of the nasty brew Kreacher called coffee, which was lucky, because otherwise he'd have it spit all over the table and chair opposite him. His heart started to pump like a train engine and he felt like blacking out. This couldn't be true. He unfolded the Prophet with shaking hands and stared at the rest of the article. 

**_Death Eater Draco Malfoy (18) sentenced to 65 years in Azkaban_ **

Those fucking stupid Ministry idiots and sons of sheep had sentenced Malfoy to sixty-fucking-five years in Azkaban, and on top of it, had stripped the entire family of all their belongings. 

Not that they'd need any, seeing that Lucius Malfoy had been killed in his first week in Azkaban while still waiting for his hearing, and Narcissa Malfoy had fucked off to South America before they could get hold of her. That left only Malfoy, who'll now die in Azkaban, following into his father's footsteps one last time. He had always been too delicate for the horrors such a surrounding would cause him. Only thinking of his appearance in their sixth year made Harry feel sick.

He had spoken out for him, to everyone who'd listen, even after Ron and Hermione had stopped listening to him at all.

The git had saved his life, and Ron's and Hermione's as well. He deserved a second chance, a chance to redeem himself. But obviously the Ministry thought otherwise.

Throwing the Prophet onto his table, Harry cast an  _ Incendio  _ so strong it nearly lit his entire table on fire under Kreacher's exhausted protests, before getting up and stomping to his Floo. He had to talk to Ron and Hermione, together they'd find a way to solve this fuck up. They had to. Malfoy wasn’t going to survive more than a month in Azkaban.

* * *

They did  _ not  _ find a way out of this. 

In fact, when Harry had arrived at their house, he found Ron and Hermione already waiting for him. He hadn't even stepped one foot into their kitchen when Hermione had started a lengthy rant about how there wasn't anything they could do, and Harry should take this as a chance to get over his childish obsession, and  _ get a life _ .

Disappointed with her reluctance to even let him voice any of his arguments, Harry went home right after breakfast and shut his Floo connection to stop her from coming at him with even more nagging.

That had been two weeks ago, and none of his friends even worried about him not being available for them. But that only served him right.

Dragging himself from room to room, muttering about the stupid Ministry, he felt a lot like Sirius must have felt during his time at Grimmauld. At least the house now was a lot cleaner and he hadn't had to hunt for rats to feed an escaped hippogriff. The only thing he had to worry about was finding the newest edition of the Prophet. Kreacher had taken up hiding it all over the house after he nearly set the table on fire.

They kept coming out with report after report about Malfoy, making it a series of crimes, and  _ possible  _ crimes, he had done before and during the war. Not even mentioning the times he had done good things. For example  _ saving their fucking Saviour _ .

His blood began to boil again and Harry called for Kreacher with the great plan to just demand today's Prophet from him. But the little coward pretend like he didn't hear him.

With a frustrated huff, Harry kicked the Trolls leg that found a new home in the attic, just to yelp surprised when it fell over and spit, together with a dozen spiders bigger as his hand, the copy of the Prophet in front of his feet. 

"Got it!" Harry exclaimed triumphantly. "Nice try Kreacher."

"Master wouldn't have as many problems if he remembered the fact that he is a wizard. Not even Master Sirius was as daft as Master Harry."

Jumping, Harry turned around and squinted at Kreacher who had obviously been hiding here all the time, cobwebs hanging from his ears, making him look even more ancient than he was. "I tried calling for you but you ignored me. What does it help being a wizard if my elf decides to hide himself and my newspaper instead of doing his actual job? Nothing I can do about this but search the place, and that is what I did, quite successfully as you can see."

Shaking his head, Kreacher disappeared with a plopp, making cobwebs fly through the gloomy place. 

Coughing, Harry made his way downstairs, already flipping through the newspaper until he found the page where they once again discussed Malfoy's case. It was featuring his involvement in Dumbledore's death once again, and Harry had enough of it.

The Prophet had all the facts wrong, as usual, but no one would care as long as it made a good story.

Slumping down on one of the chairs in his kitchen, Harry closed the Prophet and stared at the grinning title Photograph of Slughorn, who had discovered a new potion against  _ "your best member becoming less active with old age" _ by accidentally dropping candied pineapple into one of his unfinished projects.

Harry tried not to think of the reason why Slughorn was tinkering with that kind of potion, and suppressed a laugh when he thought that that'd be the reason Slughorn would be known now. 

"Is the Master done with staring at his newspaper? Kreacher would like to throw it out before the Master finally remembers he has a wand and lights up the entire kitchen again."

"It wasn't the entire kitchen, only the paper." Harry’s eyes dropped to the dark spot at the other end of the table and he added a quiet "and a tiny bit of the table" as an afterthought. But it sure wasn't the entire kitchen. 

The only time he had been only slightly responsible for some destruction in a kitchen was when Dobby demolished aunt Petunia's cake and Harry was punished for it. He'd never forget the face of Ron popping up unexpectedly outside the bars on his window. 

Bars. On his window.

This had to be the single best idea he'd ever had.

Harry was going to break Malfoy out of Azkaban.

* * *

Harry had been stomping through the Forbidden Forest for the past five hours. His mood was miserable. He had fallen over roots more times than he cared to count, his clothes were damp from the fog, he had bruises all over his body, and he was sure he had a bloody knee on top of all this.

If he ever found what he was looking for, he'd have to send Hagrid a gift basket for smuggling him onto Hogwarts grounds.

But for now it didn't look like he'd get that lucky.

He had long passed the place where he had died, and came back, just to waste his time getting angry about the Ministry over and over again. He had given a wide berth to the Acromantula den, and ignored every Centaur he passed, they wouldn't be of any help anyways. He only stopped to pet two random Thestrals walking by, before walking further and further into the bloody forest.

He thought he'd seen it at one point, but it turned out that it was just a clearing filled with strangely glowing flowers that he felt no need to get involved with.

He was on a mission, and this mission didn't include inspecting every strange inhabit of the forest.

Harry jumped when he heard a loud roar in front of him. He pointed his wand at it and crept quietly closer until he could see what it was. When he saw the rusty blue colour of Mr Weasley's flying Ford Anglia Harry nearly screamed with excitement.

"Found you! Finally!" Harry exclaimed loudly as he got close enough to the car. 

The Ford flickered its lights, and Harry found himself half blinded, but he stepped closer nevertheless. He knew the car had come to his and Ron's rescue, and he could only hope it remembered him just as well as he did.

"It's been a while. You could need a service, and a bit new air in your tires, but you're looking very good for having lived out here all by yourself for years."

The Ford roared at him, and Harry saw it as a good sign that it didn't try and flee from him.

"I could use your help, my friend. Remember the day you lot rescued me from my home? I could use someone to help me with something similar right now. Would you mind? In exchange of pumping up your tires, and a few cleaning spells and a couple of  _ Reparos _ , of course."

Harry felt more than stupid for negotiating with a car. But he knew that it wouldn't be willing to help him with anything if he wasn't nice to it. It surely remembered the Whomping Willow and the attacking spiders as well. 

Waiting for a reply, Harry pointed his wand at one of the headlights and fixed it. "I'll need to get you out of here to do more. It's getting dark and we have a long way ahead. But I'll get you fixed before we leave Hogsmeade, yes?"

The Ford roared its engine, and the driver’s door flew open with a loud creaking sound, inviting Harry to get in. 

"Thank you! I knew you'd help me!" Jumping into the car, Harry leaned back while it drove to a clearing big enough to lift itself up into the darkening sky.

Once in the air, Harry started to fix a few thing on its inside before it landed them light as a feather just outside of Hogsmeade.

"Practiced your landings I see," Harry grinned as he got out of the car to keep his promise of fixing it. "For the tires we need to find a gas station. But else you're good as new. Let's go."

Jumping back behind the steering wheel, Harry told the Ford what he had planned for them, and the car started to vibrate from excitement. He wasn't sure where the Ford got its love for dangerous places from, but Harry wouldn't complain about it.

"Once we get him out of there, your job is to bring us to a place where we can apparate as quickly as possible, and then you're free to return to the forest. Or keep exploring the world. I can cast a few charms on you that'll keep Muggles away if you want that?"

The ford honked a couple of times and started to fly even quicker and Harry laughed. 

"Okay, I need to put a few charms on you anyways before we head over to Azkaban, I can put the Muggle repelling charm on you then."

Leaning back in his seat, Harry yawned and closed his eyes, deciding he could take a nap. The ford knew the way, and he needed to be well rested once they arrived at their destination.

* * *

Harry had put every spell he could think of on the Ford. They were invisible, and noiseless. A strong shield charm was supposed to keep them safe from any spell in place to keep intruders away, and his stag Patronus laying in the back seats made sure the Dementors stayed away from the thing they couldn't see. His plan was perfect.

Now he only had to find the right cell.

Morning was already dawning by the time his  _ Lumos  _ illuminated an untidy mop of silver blond hair behind one of the bars. 

"Malfoy! Malfoy! Is that you? Wake up you prick!" Harry whisper-screamed into the cell. But either Malfoy was dead, which was highly unlikely because the Prophet would have had a field day about it, or he was so fast asleep that he couldn't hear him. Which was typical. Only Malfoy could sleep tight as a baby surrounded by Dementors.

Sighing, he aimed his wand at where his legs should be and cast a strong stinging hex, knowing it'd do its job, but probably also ruin Malfoy's mood, leaving him cranky for the rest of their time on earth.

As suspected, Malfoy instantly jumped up and looked around, horror written all over his face while trying to find whatever stung him.

"Malfoy! Pssst! Over here!" Harry whispered again, and watched as Malfoy turned towards him in slow motion, obviously terrified.

"Is it time already? Am I dead? Why do I hear Potter's voice? That's unexpected," Malfoy croaked out, while walking towards the light Harry's lumos produced.

Harry pinched his nose. Suddenly it didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. "You're not dead, you prick. I'm here, you just can't see me. I'm getting you out of here, you don't deserve to rot in Azkaban."

"Potter?" Malfoy asked, looking less horrified and more sceptical now.

"No, your fairy godmother. Yes, Potter. Wait there, I'll get rid of the bars and then we'll get you out of here."

Spelling a long rope around the bars and to the back of the Ford, Harry pocketed his wand and gave the Ford the sign to floor it, hoping it'd be strong enough to get the bars out. Else he'd have to  _ Bombada  _ Malfoy's way out of there, which would be rather counterproductive to getting in and out unnoticed with enough time to get away.

Harry felt the Ford jumping forwards. Looking back, there was only a hole left where the bars had been before and he let out a small cry of victory.

The now empty window should be just big enough for Malfoy to worm his way outside and straight into the car. 

Cutting the rope, Harry watched as the bars plummet down into the ocean, the splash concealed by the crash of waves against the shore. 

Grinning, he helped the Ford to navigate as close to Malfoy's cell as possible before he opened the door, finally revealing himself to a gawking Malfoy. "What are you waiting for you git? Hop in before they catch us!"

Malfoy slowly moved towards the window and pushed himself up and out of there, accepting Harry's helping hand.

Grabbing him by his arm, Harry gave him a strong tuck and pulled him into the car before closing the door and booting it.

Malfoy crawled over Harry's lap and into the passenger seat while staring at the Patronus nonchalantly chilling in the back of the car, before looking back at Harry with his mouth wide open.

"I'll explain once we're safe," Harry said. "The Ford and I have a plan."

Those words obviously didn't help Malfoy at all, since he instantly started rocking back and forth, mumbling about having lost his mind.

Once they landed in a small forest not too far from the coast, Harry patted the Ford's steering wheel and whispered his address before thanking it for the help. Opening the door, Harry felt nearly euphoric that everything had gone according to plan.

Walking around the car, he helped Malfoy to get out of it as well. And as soon as he had left it, the Ford started its engine again and drove off, away from the forest and into the rising day.

"Time to get out of here, take my arm. You can hide at my home until we find somewhere better."

Still gawking at him, Malfoy took Harry's arm and allowed him to apparate them away.

The Prophet had printed a special edition about Malfoy escaping Azkaban only a few hours later. Cackling madly, Harry read the article aloud to a still very silent Malfoy.

"They're saying it's a Black family trait to escape Azkaban, if they knew how right they are. Sirius also hid here for a while. Absolutely hilarious. They're looking for you all over Europe now!" 

Looking up, he found Malfoy's face rather grey and he quickly put the newspaper away. "Don't worry. Nobody will find you here. Almost no one knows this place exists after all. I mean, the minister knows. But Kingsley would never suspect you’re here, so we're good."

Malfoy's face had switched from grey to green and Harry was worried he might get sick. 

"Are you alright over there? You really don't look good. I thought you might be a bit more happy about getting out of Azkaban."

Malfoy looked up and studied Harry's face with a puzzled expression, before opening and closing his mouth several times, without saying a single word.

"Okay, how about you go upstairs and get some sleep while I go and get you some clothes and other essentials? As long as you don't leave we'll be good. Nobody will know. You'll see, things will be alright."

Malfoy nodded and got up, walking out of the kitchen and hopefully to the room Harry had introduced as Malfoy's shortly after arriving.

He waited ten minutes, and when there was no sound coming from upstairs, Harry left Grimmauld to apparate to Muggle London and get Malfoy something to wear.

* * *

Draco woke up from a deep sleep and felt better than he had in ages. Not daring to open his eyes, he patted the bed next to him, and felt the expensive sheets sliding underneath his fingertips.

He wasn't yet sure if he was in heaven or hell, or caught in some kind of hallucination that his brain made up to make his passing easier.

When he heard the shower next to his room turn on, and Potter's voice singing a Celestina song so off key that Draco wanted to throw himself out of a window, he was nearly sure he had ended up in hell tho.

There was no other explanation for this.

Slipping out of bed, Draco looked around his room.

Hallucination Potter had brought him clothes that looked very Muggle while he was asleep. Looking through the pile, he found some very comfortable looking things and decided if he was already caught in this limbus, he could just as well make use of its comfort.

As soon as Potter had vacated the bathroom, Draco slipped in and locked the door behind him. Turning the water as hot as possible, he stepped into the shower and watched as the water pooling at his feet turned from dirty grey to rather clear.

Making great use of Potter's various shampoos and body washes, Draco soaped up his entire body and marveled in the heat surrounding him. 

Once feeling fresh and clean, he stepped out of the shower and dried himself before slipping into the comfortable clothes he had found. Patting barefoot down to the kitchen, Draco decided to just roll with whatever was going on. This was still better than Azkaban. Much better, he decided, once the smell of bacon had reached his nose.

Whatever this was, he kind of liked it. He could probably stay in this fantasy with ease, even tho he knew that his body was currently rotting away in Azkaban. He didn't care. 

* * *

"Oh Harry, what have you done? How could you—"

Draco watched the drama unfold around him with a sick kind of fascination with how real this hallucination seemed to be. 

Made up Granger behaved very much like real Granger probably would have done upon finding a wanted criminal at her best friend's house. While hallucination Weasley looked like he'd break things any second now, his usually pale face spotting an angry purple colour.

"I had to do something and you two wouldn't listen, so I took matters into my own hands!" Fantasy Potter exclaimed loudly, waving his arms like a headless chicken flapping its wings.

"But breaking him out of Azkaban? Really?"

"You know he's too delicate to survive Azkaban!"

"I'm not  _ too delicate _ , hallucination Potter! I was doing just fine!" Draco exclaimed.

"Hallucination Potter?" Granger asked with a puzzled look.

"He thinks he's caught in a Hallucination," Potter shrugged. "I think he'll catch up soon enough."

"I can't believe you did this, Harry. What were you thinking? What's your plan? You obviously can't stay here." 

"Why not? They won't look for him here. They'll forget about him in a couple of months, thinking he followed his mother to South America or some rott like that."

Draco giggled upon fantasy Potter mentioning his mother. Little did they know that she only made plans that looked like she left for South America when in reality she had moved to a Malfoy family estate in France under a fake name, and probably a different face as well.

"Mate! What. The. FUCK? Look at this stupid idiot sitting there and giggling! He's bonkers! You should put him back before the Ministry finds the two of you and stick you in a cell together!"

Sighing, Malfoy rolled his eyes at hallucination Weasley's angry outburst. "No need to scream like that Weasel. As far as I know Potter only has bad eyes, not ears. Except things don't work like this here? I'm not sure. I was never half dead before."

"Malfoy, I told you before, and I'll tell you again. You're not hallucinating, and neither are you dying. Believe me, I was dead once. This isn't even close to how it is," Potter sighed, before turning his attention back to the Weasel. "But he's right, Ron. There's no need to scream. It'll be fine. You'll see. They'll forget about him. And Malfoy will catch up with reality, and things will be fine."

It took hallucination Potter another thirty minutes to convince his friends to let it be and leave. They side eyed Draco on their way out, and he couldn't help but grin and wave at them until they were gone.

"This was fun! Who's next? Maybe your girlfriend? You're still with the She-Weasel aren't you? Oh Merlin, do you think I'll survive the entire 65 years trapped hallucinating about you and your friends?" 

Potter sagged onto a nearby chair and buried his face in his hands, mumbling something about mistakes that were made at some point. But Draco didn't really care, this was way too amusing for him. And a nice distraction from the horrible nightmare his days had been until now. 

He stayed in a great mood for nearly a week, annoying hallucination Potter to no ends. 

Up until the point where he missed a step while hopping downstairs to eat breakfast. 

A broken ankle, and an abysmally unskilled Potter trying to stitch him back together again, made realisation dawn on him. If this was a fantasy, he'd have woken up from the unbearable pain by now. 

This was real. Potter really broke him out of Azkaban in a flying car that went on its own adventures right afterwards. 

And he really was hiding from the Ministry, together with Potter, who became a criminal for him, and who looked so worried about Draco right now that swallowing suddenly was one of the hardest things he had ever tried to do. 

Luckily he was already lying on one of the sofas, because as soon as this realisation sunk in, mixed with the pain shooting through his body, Draco fainted. 

**Author's Note:**

> I would love it if you leave a comment or kudos for my fic 💜
> 
> [Visit me on tumblr!](https://gnarf.tumblr.com/)


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